


every goddamn moment

by tiptoe39



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Enemies to Lovers, Halloween, Halloween Costumes, M/M, Porn With Plot, Silly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-02
Updated: 2016-06-02
Packaged: 2018-07-11 20:09:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7068268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tiptoe39/pseuds/tiptoe39
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five Halloween costumes Nursey wanted Dex to wear, and one Dex actually agreed to. Also: porn. </p>
<p>This fic goes all over the place stylistically. Just go with it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	every goddamn moment

**Author's Note:**

> Tremendous thanks to [Jaradel](http://archiveofourown.org/users/jaradel/pseuds/jaradel) for the beta, and to [ericandjack](https://twitter.com/letmebathe) for the original prompt!

**I.**

“Forget it. For-fucking-get it, Nurse.”

Nursey just grins and holds up the outfit.

Dex steps backward across the room. “I’m not wearing that. Get it away from me.”

“You’d look so good, though.” Nursey’s eyes are glittering with excitement.

“I don’t care how you think I’d look! And I don’t know what the hell you’re implying by saying that thing would look good on me.”

“Implying?” Nursey’s got the round-eyed innocent look going, which would be annoying enough if he weren’t also trying to push a costume into Dex’s hands.

“Nurse, I am not going as a fucking _bunny_ for Halloween.”

“Then what am I supposed to do with this costume?”

Dex eyes it like it’s a dead roach. “I don’t care. Give it to Bitty to wear or something.”

Nursey lights up. “That’s a great idea!”

And despite himself, Dex is kind of pleased to hear that.

* * *

**II.**

“Dracula, dude.”

The words pop out of Nursey’s mouth in the middle of a team breakfast. Dex thinks he’s having a conversation with someone else until he sees that those freaking shining eyes and big grin are trained on _him._ “Dracula what?” he asks carefully, afraid of the answer.

He was right to be afraid. “You should go as Dracula.”

“Go where?”

“The Halloween party. You’d be a great vampire.”

Dex’s eyes roll so far back in his head he nearly blacks out. “A red-headed Dracula?”

“Why not? Does it ever say in the book that he’s a brunette?”

“How the fuck should I know? You’re the literary one.”

Nursey grins wide and stupid. “Quick, Dex. Say ‘I vant to bite your neck.’”

“I am not saying--” Dex starts.

“Then say ‘Good eeeeevening. Velcome to my castle.’” Nursey is trying desperately not to collapse into a fit of giggles. “Come on, it’d be cool.”

Now Holster’s looking. Expectantly. Dex shoots him a glare.

“In a minute,” he hisses across the table at Nursey, “I am going to go full-on vampire on your ass and you’re gonna be lying here bleeding the fuck out.”

“Oh, God.” Nursey’s voice drops. “I love it when you talk dirty.”

Boiled eggs and bacon abruptly lose all their appeal. Dex shoulders his bag and heads for Annie’s for a more edible breakfast.

* * *

**III.**

They’re side by side at the Haus, not-really-watching TV, when Nursey’s shoulders drop and he says, “Maybe I’ll just throw a sheet over you and drag you to the party like that.”

“What kind of a costume is that supposed to be?” Dex is too bone-tired from practice to move. Even his voice is drained of energy. “A Klansman?”

“A ghost, bro!” Nursey cackles. “Seriously? You didn’t get ‘ghost’ from the sheet thing? Weird.”

“What do sheets have to do with ghosts?” This is requiring more brainpower than Dex has to spare.

“They wear them. Duh.”

“They do not. Ghosts wear whatever they were killed in. Have you never seen a fucking ghost movie?”

Nursey rolls his head to the side and goggles at Dex. “Have you never read a children’s book? Or, you know, played Pac-Man?”

“My video game experience begins and ends with Call of Duty.”

Nursey visibly deflates. “Fuck.”

* * *

**IV.**

Dex is chatting up a girl at a kegster the next time Nursey approaches. Dex sees him coming out of the corner of his eye and looks for a place to run, but no dice -- he’s led the girl into the corner on purpose. This is just what he gets.

_This_ , specifically, being Nursey coming up to him without a word, then plastering something fuzzy to his face.

Dex spits and rips it off (ouch) to discover an ugly fake handlebar moustache sitting like a dead tarantula in his hand. “What in the hell is this?”

“Super Mario,” Nursey says with a grin. “Since you need to learn your video game history. You have, like, a pair of overalls or something? If not we can just buy you a pair of red suspenders and you’ll be good.”

The girl is giggling. Dex feels like Mount Vesuvius. “The _hell_ are you doing at a time like this,” he hisses, dragging Nursey away from his prospect’s curious stare and shoving him up against another wall.

“It’s cool, man. I’ll be Luigi. See, I’ll wear one too, and then we’ll match--”

“I don’t want to match with you,” Dex says, “I don’t want to wear one of your stupid Halloween costume ideas, and I don’t want you fucking up my wheeling, so just leave me the fuck alone!”

He’s raised his voice, but he doesn’t realize how much until he glances around and realizes every eye in the room’s on him. Dex coughs. He pats Nursey on the shoulder, forcing a smile. And he heads for the door.

The girl doesn’t follow. But thankfully, neither does Nursey.

* * *

**V.**

“What about a soldier?”

It’s a week later, and they’re headed back to the locker room after a grueling practice where Ransom and Holster ran over them like a pair of rhinoceri. Dex is pulling off his helmet, and Nursey’s already half-stripped down for the showers. It’s been several days since Dex has wanted to punch him in the jaw, but that streak is about to be over.

Dex pretends he hasn’t heard. He pulls his sweater off, mops the perspiration on his neck with a towel.

“Yeah, you could go as General Poindexter. A man in uniform is always attractive.”

Dex squints at him. “Are you still going on about Halloween?”

“We’ve got to find you something,” says Nursey with a shrug.

“ _We_? Who the hell’s _we?_ ”

“You and me.” Like it’s obvious.

Dex tries to keep his cool. “Dude, there is no fucking _we_. Why are you so obsessed with what I wear for Halloween, anyway? It’s creepy.”

“I’m just trying to have a little fun with you, man. I know you wouldn’t know fun if it bit you in the ass, but…”

“I have _plenty_ of fun.”

“But not with me.” Nursey’s voice is muted, and when Dex turns to stare at him, he turns away. “I don’t know why the hell we can’t have a good time once in a while, Will.”

“Maybe because you’re always _riding my ass._ ”

Dex has a few more choice words, but they run dry when he sees the look on Nursey’s face. “Believe it or not,” Nursey mumbles, grabbing a towel, “I really don’t wanna be the guy who ruins your day.”

“Then leave me the fuck alone.”

“I _can’t_.” Nursey shoots him a look. “Man, we have to play together, why can’t we at least _try_ to be friends?”

“Why the hell do we have to?” Dex retorts. “I deal with you enough on the ice, Nurse. I don’t need you on my wing twenty-four hours a fucking day.”

Nursey’s bare shoulders hunch. “Jesus, Will,” he starts, “I don’t--”

“Well, maybe you fucking _should._ For once in your life, think about how you fucking affect people, with your goddamn perfect smug face and your bullshit attitude and your ‘chill’ and your--”

“Goddamn it, Will, listen--”

“No, you fucking listen!” Dex grabs him by the arm and shoves him hard against the wall. Beneath his hand, Nursey’s tricep twitches. The muscle is hard and huge in his grasp. Nursey’s momentarily winded, breathing hard as he stares at Dex with wide, stone-gray eyes. They’re breathing into each other’s space, Nursey’s exhalations landing hard against Dex’s skin.

With a muttered curse, Dex backs off. “Just -- drop the damn Halloween thing, all right?” he says. “You’re making me want to not even show up.”

“I’m sorry, man.”

Fuck, that’s actual regret in Nursey’s eyes, and Dex didn’t think he’d ever see it. It’s breaking him a little. “Enough. Just let it go.”

“Okay. Sorry.” Nursey quietly backs off and heads into the showers. Dex watches him go, hating the sting of regret in his chest, hating the emptiness beside him where Nursey used to be.

By the time Nursey emerges from the showers, packs up his things, and leaves without a word, Dex has moved on to hating himself. God damn it, he always pushes just a little too hard, doesn’t he? Pushes too hard and isn’t smart enough to know when to let go.

He’s kind of like Nursey in that way.

* * *

_and_

**I.**

Nursey’s waiting outside his door. Dex looks back and forth, expecting a trap. Candid Camera or something. But all he sees is Nursey, slumping against the wall, glum, waiting. He doesn’t look up until Dex is close enough to cast a shadow.

“The hell is that face?” Dex asks by way of greeting.

Nursey doesn’t take the bait. “Can we talk for, like, two secs?”

If this is a trap, Dex is too dumb to see how it’ll be sprung. He relents. “Sure, come on in.”

* * *

“Shouldn’t you be off buying a Halloween costume or some shit?” Dex asks as the door clicks shut behind them.

“That’s not what I -- well, it kind of is. But not yet.” Nursey chews on his lip. “Look. Will. I know I can be a pain in the ass, I get that. But I don’t want you to skip out on the party because I was giving you shit, okay? If it’s gonna piss you off, I’ll be the one who doesn’t go.”

Oh, here we go. Now he’s angling to be a martyr. Dex scowls. “I didn’t ask you to--”

“And I’m not saying it to make you feel bad. Dude, I am not here to make your life miserable. I was really trying to have fun with you. Honest to God.”

Dex groans. “I get that. Man, I don’t get _you_ , but I get what you were trying to do. I’m just saying, maybe you need to think about it…” But now, abruptly, he feels lousy for lecturing Nursey. Like, where the hell does he get off telling Nursey how to be, when he’s pissed at him for trying to do more or less the same thing?

“Yeah, I need to think about a lot of things.” Nursey runs his fingers through his hair nervously. Dex wonders idly what that hair feels like. Is it coarse or soft as it filters by Nursey’s skin? “S’easier for me not to, you know? I just let things happen and don’t care, ‘cause it’s easier. It’s harder to deal with things if I give a damn. I don’t know how you do it, man. I’d fucking pop if I were you.”

“Well, excuse me for giving a damn.” Dex can feel a head of steam building up.

“No, man. I’m not giving you grief for it. It’s a good thing. I mean, I wish I-- it’s just, the things I do care about? They totally wreck me. I stay up at night thinking about the plays we screwed up, or the way you looked at me the last time I pissed you off.”

“You fucking _love_ pissing me off.”

“But I _don’t._ ” Nursey moves toward him. He’s looking at Dex with eyes that are-- that _hurt_ somehow to look at. Dex tries to look away, but when his gaze lands on Nursey’s jaw, or the curve of his elbow, the sweet ache that runs through his belly leaves him hurting even worse. So he meets Nursey’s gaze again, waiting for the rest.

Nursey takes a breath, wets his lips, and goes on.  “I don’t love pissing you off. I love-- what I love is _affecting_ you, Will. Seeing you respond. I’m just best at getting you mad, but if I knew how to make you laugh, or make you -- anything else--”

“Why?” Dex doesn’t know how to process any of this. Not Nursey’s words, not his closeness, or the way his gaze keeps dropping and lifting again. “I mean, if you’re so chill, why do you give a shit what I do?”

“Heh.” Nursey gives a soft, rueful laugh. “Like I haven’t sat up at night asking myself that same question.”

“Well, hurry up and find a fucking answer.”

“I have an answer,” Nursey says hesitantly. “I don’t know how you’re gonna take it, though.” There’s a dim flame in his eyes, just lit. Dex is a little scared to say anything else.

So he crosses his arms and scowls at Nursey like he’s waiting.

Nursey doesn’t speak. Instead, he lifts one hand and carefully fits it around the curve of Dex’s jaw.

A low curl of heat plummets from Dex’s gut to his toes. Nursey’s hand feels almost too big, fingers thick and long, palm wide as it tucks under Dex’s chin. Dex doesn’t move, doesn’t know what to do, but he swallows and keeps staring into Nursey’s eyes like they’re the lifeline that’ll keep him afloat.

After a moment of stillness, Nursey shifts closer, lifting his other hand. Fingertips skirt Dex’s ear, press into his hairline. Maybe Dex makes a noise. Maybe that noise is a soft whimper.

Nursey licks his lips, parts them as though to say something, then stops. He eases still closer. Shoulders bumping shoulders, their foreheads nearly touching, they’re locked into a gaze and a moment that Dex doesn’t remember falling into and has no idea how to escape. When Nursey tugs him forward, he goes.

A soft kiss. Lips meeting lips. Holding, pressing, parting. And then done.

Dex becomes painfully aware of the throb of his pulse.

He grabs Nursey by the arms, hauls him back in. Nursey’s lips part beneath his. The soft touch of his tongue is bright as fire. Dex groans, licks, tastes as deeply as he can. Nursey’s smoky and sweet, solid beneath Dex’s fingers. When Dex grips his shoulder and pulls him close, Nursey’s body envelops him. They’re clinging, kissing. Making soft noises. Crashing against the wall, half-laughing together, kissing more.

“Fuck,” Nursey’s panting against his mouth. “Fuck.”

“You sound like me,” Dex murmurs. He stares at Nursey’s mouth -- lips parted and swollen, irresistible. He leans up and takes three or four more sucking kisses. The feeling when Nursey surges in to meet him, sucks at his lips -- Dex is all electric inside.

He kisses Nursey’s mouth, the corner of his lips, his jaw, the sweet hollow of his neck. Nursey digs nails into his back and holds on. “Fuck, Will, fuck,” he whispers.

Dex grazes his teeth against the hollow of Nursey’s throat. “Yeah, that’s the fucking plan. You down?”

A shuddering sigh above him. “Hell, yeah.”

They nearly lose it tripping over to Dex’s bed. Nursey laughs as his knees buckle around the edge of the mattress. He collapses onto the bed like a blanket unfolding, limbs sprawling everywhere. Dex climbs on top of him, legs parting around his waist, pressing his body down against Nursey’s. His hands slide up under Nursey’s shirt. All that goddamn fine sweet dark skin and Dex is touching it for himself, feeling all the creases and curves and bulges of his muscles like it’s his playground, like he can do whatever he wants.

And Nursey is swearing a fucking blue streak, hissing “Shit” every time Dex runs his hands over a new part of him. When Dex works off his sweater, Nursey wriggles like a fish to help out. And then oh god Nursey’s spread out beneath him like a fucking landscape and Dex can touch any part he _wants._

So he tastes. He runs his mouth down over Nursey’s collarbone. He breathes in the scent of him, pressing lips across the expanse of his chest, over to one peaked brown nipple. When he takes it between his teeth, flicks his tongue across it, Nursey cries out and jerks, hips surging up..

“Fuck, Will, fucking _please_ ,” Nursey hisses when Dex bites at the soft skin of his stomach. Dex eases his hand down, cups Nursey’s erection and rubs gently. Nursey rocks into his hand, whining. It takes all of Dex’s will not to surge up and grind against that sweet heat. God knows he’s hard and hot enough himself.

It’s not until after they’re both naked -- after Nursey’s cursed and begged for Dex to get him out of his jeans, and Dex has fumbled off shoes and socks and slacks alike -- that Dex looks around and remembers he doesn’t live here alone. “Shit,” he mutters, “roommates. One sec.” He deposits a kiss like a promise on Nursey’s thigh, then gets up.

As he scrambles to get a necktie out of the drawer and hang it on the doorknob, Dex tries to keep from doing a little jig. Oh, yeah. He’s going to get hella laid.

He’s gonna get laid and it’s Derek Nurse. Jesus. He’s out of his fucking mind.

Out of his fucking mind never felt so damn good.

Back onto the bed and onto Nursey and _shit_ , Nursey’s pushing him down so now Dex is flat on _his_ back instead. But Nursey’s kisses all down his jawline and neck and on the shell of his ear are careful, warm and soft, and Dex is shuddering too hard to fight back or even complain. If Nursey was looking for a way to get a different kind of rise out of Dex, this is sure as hell one way to do it. Dex can’t stop moaning. He can’t stop grabbing Nursey by the neck and by all that hair -- it’s soft, soft and thick, not coarse or wiry at all -- and when Nursey pauses at one of his pulse points and flicks his tongue over it, Dex hears himself use Nursey’s first name. “D-Derek, _Christ.”_

“God, yeah,” Nursey captures his lips again, hums into them. “How do you want to do this?”

Dex doesn’t have to think about it for even a moment. “Want you fucking me. Want it like I can fucking _taste_ it.”

“Holy shit.” Nursey pants into his mouth. “Holy shit, Will, are we really doing this?”

He pulls back and looks down at Dex, and Dex can only stare up into those eyes and be completely lost. Had he really seen them as stone-gray before? They’re green, the aching green of a forest in midspring, deep and full of potential. There’s so much feeling behind those eyes. Dex knows that so well. No wonder Nursey tries so hard not to care. The feelings must be uncontrollable when they do come.

He understands Nursey completely in this moment. And he has no idea why he ever thought they were different. They’re just the same.

Dex reaches up and pulls Nursey down into a kiss, hot and filthy and full of intent. “Derek Nurse,” he orders sternly, “the condoms are in the right-hand drawer of my desk. Get one and get over here and then fucking _get some._ ”

“Yes sir, General Poindexter,” Nursey murmurs with a grin.

The wait is unbearable, but when Nursey crawls back onto the bed and kisses him soft and wet, everything’s worth it. He’s brought the lube, and Dex impatiently grabs it and spears himself with hard fingers. Nursey watches, runs appreciative hands over his thighs as Dex works. There will be time for long, slow openings and careful work another time. For now, Dex wants Nursey in him and he wants it now. His blood is sizzling with the need for it. When he’s done, he grabs Nursey around the neck, pulls him into a hard kiss. “Now,” he demands, lifting his legs, pulling Nursey down onto him. “Now.”

“J-jesus,” Nursey stutters, and his hands come down like clamps on Dex’s hips. They fit together carefully, too slow for Dex’s taste, but when Nursey’s bottomed out inside him the shock-thrill that runs through Dex is worth every moment of hesitation. He groans. Nursey echoes him. They lie there, not moving, staring at each other for an amazed moment.

“Move,” Dex orders, and locks his legs around Nursey’s waist.

With a stuttered curse, Nursey obeys, pushing and rocking into Dex. His face is taut with agony, his fingers clawing against Dex’s skin. Dex looks at him and aches, thinks he can feel what Nursey’s feeling in addition to the hot push and fullness of his own blazing body. Nursey’s on fire, he can see it, he can feel it with every little shift and and desperate grasp. Nursey’s hands are everywhere. On his hip, his back, sliding up over his chest. Pinning his shoulders into the bed. Fingers tangling with his own, squeezing hard.

Dex tugs him down, catches his lips, then mouthing down across his neck. Nursey’s rocking speeds up. “Will,” he murmurs against Dex’s ear. “Oh, God. God, _fuck._ ”

“Yeah,” Dex mutters, and he means it totally. Yeah to this moment, yeah to every goddamn moment of frustration and chirping and crap that Nursey has put him through to get them here. Dex loves it all, he thinks wildly as he runs his free hand through Nursey’s hair, sucks fevered bites into his neck. He loves Nursey’s bullshit attitude and he loves his own lack of tolerance for it. He loves every stupid fight they’ve ever gotten in. He loves all those ridiculous Halloween costumes, and how enthusiastically Nursey pushed them on him. They all brought him here, brought Nursey onto his bed and into his arms, and Dex wouldn’t trade this moment for all the peaceful, unruffled days in the world.

Dex comes before he thinks he can -- an explosion of sensation that starts deep in his prostate and expands through to his balls and his leaking cock before mushrooming outward like a nuclear blast. His whole universe goes red. He’s never felt anything like it. Gasping, clutching the back of Nursey’s neck with a hard hand, he rocks his shaking body up to meet Nursey’s thrusts. “Come on, Derek. C’mon.”

It only takes a few more hard thrusts, each with a sharp cry that rings in Dex’s ears. Then Nursey shatters, groaning low and deep and long. The swell and push of it send an aftershock of pleasure tingling through Dex’s body, and he throws his head back, revels in the feel of Nursey’s mouth at the juncture of shoulder and neck. Nursey’s gasping, swallowing, hissing out exhalations that he’s fighting to slow. His hand in Dex’s squeezes, then lets go, traveling up the length of Dex’s arm to his shoulder and then his face. And here they are again, staring at each other, Nursey’s fingers at his jaw, at a loss for what to say.

At least, Dex is at a loss. Nursey smiles after a moment, that dumb beatific smile that Dex hates and loves in equal measure. “So,” he says.

“So?”

Nursey’s grin widens. “So I had one more idea for a Halloween costume.”

* * *

Dex feels like a goddamn fool. But he adjusts the wig on his head and stretches out his hand in greeting to a really, _really_ confused-looking Holster. Who is wearing gold goggles and a spandex outfit that Dex feels like he really should recognize, but just can’t. But he’s forgetting his lines. Dex clears his throat.

“Sup,” he says. “Chill. I’m Nursey.”

“Shut up,” Nursey snipes behind him. “Stop saying that. Cut it out.”

Dex is about to answer in kind, but when he turns and sees the ridiculous red wig on Nursey’s head, he has to bite back a laugh. He turns back to Holster. “Oh yeah, this is my linemate, Dex. He’s really uptight.”

“Shut UP,” Nursey says again.

OK, that’s _it._ “Listen, you fucker, I don’t sound like that.”

“No, you listen, you fucker, you sound exactly like this.” God, Nursey won’t drop the impression, or the stupid grin on his face. Dex wants to either smack him or kiss the damn words off his lips. If he plays his cards right, he’ll get the chance for both tonight.

But here comes Bitty in that godawful bunny costume. (Somehow he makes it work.) He stops, stares, and bursts out into gales of laughter.

Nursey comes forward from behind him and waves at Bitty. “Hi. I’m Dex. Got a minute to talk about our lord and savior, Ronald Reagan?”

Dex elbows him out of the way. “Screw Ronald Reagan, let’s talk about Emily Dickinson,” he jabs. “While sitting on a pile of leaves and pondering mindfulness.” He glances at Nursey, expecting at least a glare of annoyance.

Instead, Nursey _beams_ at him. And, Dex finds with a leap of his heart,  it feels _amazing_.

He lobs a grin back in Nursey’s direction, and they make their way into the thick of the party.


End file.
